As Neville fished out his key, he steeled himself against the two months of neglect that he was going to have to face. He knew he hadn't emptied the rubbish bin, and he was not looking forward to the thin layer of dust he was sure would coat everything, nor to the forest of dead plants he was likely to find.

As the door swung open and he stepped inside, his jaw dropped.

Pristine. It was as though he'd stepped out an hour ago. He sniffed the air, and he could not detect any hint of garbage gone rancid, or of spoiled food.

Bemused, he wondered if Harry had stepped in to take care of things - despite Neville's insistence, Harry had never returned his key - when he spied the cornflower blue parchment on the coffee table.

Mr Longbottom,

I trust this letter will find you well. I have it on the highest authority that you are recovering from your ordeal spectacularly, and I expect it shall be but a scant few days before you read these words. I took the liberty of providing a more fitting homecoming for you; you'll find tea under a Stasis charm in the kitchen, and it is unlikely you will need to make a trip to the shops for food anytime soon.

You did me a great favour; it will not be one that I will soon forget. That is two Lancasters that owe you a debt related to our father, in case you had lost track - my brother has not forgotten the good you did him during the unpleasantness with the Malfoy heir. I have spoken with Harrison, and he has agreed that it would be best if I relocated the Brotherhood's base of operations to somewhere else in Europe. Among our lot, this is called "Respect of Territory," though it is more complex with you involved, of course, as the usual courtesies would normally not be extended. Do know, however, that the Brotherhood shall not trouble you and yours again so long as I draw breath.

I am sorry I was unable to hold up my end of our bargain, but as it turned out, you did not need it. Nevertheless, I feel the imbalance quite keenly, so I shall extend to you this amendment: the landlady of the Leaky Cauldron - a young woman I dearly admire for her discretion as well as her wit - will have in her safekeeping a certain wand once I have procured a new one. She will contact you when she has it in her possession, and then I will formally bequeath it to you as the new legal owner via right of inheritance.

Should you ever require my assistance in matters, you can contact me through Ms Abbott, the aforementioned landlady. I believe you would find me a useful and resourceful ally, and I am confident I would consider you the same. Otherwise, I bid you a pleasant and uneventful life.

Sincerely,

Gloria Lancaster

Neville scanned over the words again disbelievingly as his feet took him to the kitchen. Sure enough, under the iridescent dome of a Stasis charm, a teapot sat on the kitchen table along with a plate of ginger biscuits.

"That is one very dangerous woman," he said to no one.

A knock at his door made him turn. He had left the door ajar to let in the spring breeze, and he could see Harry leaning in to look around the flat. "Harry. Come in." He casually folded the blue parchment and slipped it into his pocket.

Uneasily glancing about, Harry stepped into the flat. "All right, Neville? How did they treat you at the hospital?"

"Fair enough." Neville shrugged. "It's no easy thing, breaking an addiction. But I'm clean now."

"Glad to hear it." Harry looked as though he wanted to say something, but he knew that whatever words he chose would be wrong.

Sighing, Neville squared his shoulders to face Harry. "None of it was your fault. I'm not coming back to the force. And as for the other thing… I think the past should stay in the past."

Harry blinked. "Right. Looks like you know my mind better than I do."

"Whenever you get that look, it's always the same things," Neville said with a sad smile. "And it's always going to be the same answers. I'm done with that part of my life. So are you. Let's get on with things, shall we?" He cleared his throat as his voice threatened to thicken. "How are the kids?"

Harry nodded slowly. "They're good. Terrors, the lot of them."

The conversation lapsed. Neville shifted, and then he gestured towards the kitchen. "I've got tea. Would you care for a cuppa?"

"Yeah, all right." Harry licked his lips. "I am sorry I made a mess of things."

Neville shrugged. "So am I. We'll call it even, and we're friends again." He gestured towards the kitchen again. "I reckon single-handedly preventing the collapse of the Ministry and significantly bolstering your arrest count makes up for any of my previous shortcomings."

Chuckling uneasily, Harry stepped toward the kitchen. "I suppose it does. There's talk of promotion for me, despite how ham-fisted the whole thing was."

"Good. Though I should note that I'm not even in the force anymore and I still have more arrests under my belt than you. You should get on that." Neville offered a lopsided smile.

"So what will you do now?" Harry asked some time later, breaking the not-quite-awkward silence of two friends who have only recently forgiven one another for past hurts.

"No idea. The entire field of Herbology is more or less barred to me now. They don't tend to take kindly to addicts working with addictive compounds, and that's where the research is right now." Neville sipped at his tea. "I'll find something to do with myself."

The smile on Harry's face was small, but it was there. "I expect you will. You've always done a good job looking after yourself."

Neville snorted. "Hardly. But I'll survive, at least." His mind wandered to the paper in his pocket. "Do you have any leads on Gloria Lancaster?"

The faint smile on Harry's face dropped abruptly. "Not a hint," he said darkly. "She disappeared, along with the others of the Brotherhood who we weren't able to hit with charges that stuck. I don't like it."

"I don't think she's going to be causing any problems for the foreseeable future," Neville said carefully.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "That's a rather drastic change of tune."

"Seems that way, doesn't it?" The flash of irritation that made Harry's eyes gleam for a moment made Neville stifle a laugh. "She's something her father wasn't; something I didn't expect. She's… honourable. I have a feeling we won't be bothered by the Brotherhood again."

It was Harry's turn to snort. "I doubt that. The Brotherhood has been a fixture in London for nearly thirty years."

"Call it a hunch," Neville insisted. "You always trusted my hunches before. I have a very strong hunch that you won't be seeing much of the Brotherhood at all from now on."

Neville let his gaze wander to the window while Harry chewed on that. Outside, the bright green leaves of spring rustled in a breeze. He smiled faintly. Springtime had always been his favourite season.

Ms Lancaster,

Thank you for your letter earlier this year. I will admit I was surprised to come across it.

Having spent a considerably hot summer living one, I've determined that a quiet and uneventful life doesn't really appeal to me. I'm not surprised to find that employment is difficult to come by after my time in the company of, to use your words, "your lot". It appears that an official Ministry pardon only clears the way to employment within the Ministry, and it doesn't do much at all to remove the tarnish with employers I'd find more appealing.

Ms Abbott has assured me that you may be able to help me in this regard. I think I should add that she and I get on fairly well, and I can clearly see why you hold her in such high esteem.

I look forward to your reply.

Cheers,

Neville Longbottom

- finite -